


Sunspots

by bossy



Category: Death Note
Genre: Dark, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mind Games, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossy/pseuds/bossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L catches Light alone, and comes onto him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunspots

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2007 or so.

When Light awakens, the room is pitch black except for the blinking light on the surveillance camera in the corner. It takes a few moments for him to remember where he is. He is still leaning back in his chair, neck stiff and watch chafing the skin near his wrist, but his computer has been turned off and it is late enough that the buildings he can see outside are already dark and deserted. He is about to drift back into sleep for a few more hours when the shadows beside him shift suddenly, quickening his heart rate and jolting him immediately out of drowsiness. Light swivels the chair around out of reflex and his knee brushes against something warm.

“Light-kun,” L says softly, from in front of him, and Light makes himself let out the breath he was holding in, as if he is relieved that L is here (when, really, his pulse is pounding faster and he can feel tension building behind his eyes).

“Ryuzaki,” Light replies quickly, voice sounding dry and all too raw, unconcealed. “What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

“You fell asleep around one-fifteen in the morning, and I had the others leave since I didn’t want to disturb your slumber,” L says, a gaze from eyes he can barely see scalding into him so deeply he feels it should leave scars. Light’s mind is still so clouded with sleep that it takes a moment for the fact that they are alone to sink in, but when it does, he feels his muscles start to tense even more. The knuckles in his left hand are itching to be cracked; he massages them nonchalantly with his other hand, eyes straining at the darkness in a futile effort to discern more than shadows. There is nothing.

“Coincidentally,” L continues, slowly; Light can practically see him chewing on the tip of his thumb, eyes wide, “There was only one death while you slept, of a man convicted two weeks ago.”

_You are a devil_ , Light wants to say, and he lets his jaw clench before he remembers the infrared cameras and slowly releases the tension.

“Thanks, Ryuzaki,” he says instead, smiling faintly. “You’ve been working without me? It’s pretty dark in here. I’ve had enough rest–let’s keep working on the case.”

He moves to get up from his chair (to move toward the light switch and illuminate the room, rid it of its demons), and then L is even closer. 

“Don’t move,” he whispers, breathing hotly into Light’s ear, fingertips skittering across Light’s jaw, and Light tenses for a minute, barely daring to hope–

He doesn’t stop, _L doesn’t stop._

“Ryuzaki?” Light asks, breathlessly, letting his voice tremble slightly as he reaches out and claps his fingers around L’s wrist. And then he is kissing L and Light is giddy with the triumph, has L in his fucking palms, and– _I’d better not to let him think he’s won too soon_.

He jerks back in feigned shock, “Ryuzaki, I–” and makes L wait one second, two, three four, and then he lets out a shaky breath and says “God,” reaching out for L again. “God, Ryuzaki, I never thought–” 

“Yagami-kun,” he says, pulling away; Light can’t read his expression, in this light. “Please don’t think that I _like_ you. This isn’t–”

“Shut up,” Light says, leaning forward and meeting his lips again.

And L–the greatest detective alive, Kira’s sworn enemy–is melting into his touch, is moaning softly and clenching his hand in the front of Light’s shirt. 

“Is this–” Light breathes, snaking a hand beneath the waistband of L’s jeans and curling it around L’s already half-hard cock. For a second, L’s entire body goes rigid, fingernails digging into Light’s skin where he had been grasping Light’s shirt (near his heart, and Light flinches momentarily) and then L is wrapping his other hand around Light’s waist, pressing his lips to Light’s throat and sucking, movements oddly soft, airy, fragile.

The chair rolls backward with the added weight, slamming into one of the desks hard as Light’s hand picks up speed, already slippery with precome as he pumps L hard and fast (and maybe, Light can emaciate L through sex, can allure him and entice him and become the only thing binding him to reality), angling his body away from the cameras so that later, L won’t notice what would seem an incriminating lack of an erection.

Light keeps his ears open as he slows his pace, teasing the slit and waiting for pleas in other languages or half-moaned names and curses that might give him a clue to L’s origins. But even as he quickens it again, L is just breathing, heavily and wantonly; Light tastes blood on his lips when L leans over and kisses him, cock jerking and come spilling out into Light’s palm, and Light thinks, _you bastard_. He can’t stop himself from deepening the kiss in some twisted form of retribution, L’s spindly fingers brushing against the tip of Light’s now half-hard cock as L breaks the kiss and breathes, “I hope you remember my motto, Light-kun.”

“Of course. An eye for an eye,” Light responds, voice low and heavy, reaching out to kiss L again (and maybe this time, ask him why he bit down on his lip, stop it from happening again), but L evades him, instead falling to his knees on the floor in front of him.

“It’s Yagami-kun’s turn now,” he says matter-of-factly, fumbling with Light’s fly and leaning over to suck on the skin below his navel. Embarrassingly, Light’s cock responds, straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

“Ryuzaki, this isn’t–” Light starts to protest, but L’s fingers are skittering around the waistband and he wants to take the words back as soon as L slides his boxers down his hips, one finger circling gently over the tip of his cock and then drawing back all too quickly.

“This won’t work if you don’t let me,” L says, moving away from Light and looking up, questioning; he is starting to suck on one of his fingers, slowly, and suddenly Light can’t remember why this isn’t a good idea.

He nods, throat suddenly dry, and L wastes no time in leaning forward almost eagerly and licking at the tip of his cock. Light tenses automatically; L meets his eyes again, starting to run his tongue over the slit, lightly and barely there. He begins to take Light into his mouth–slowly, still–easing his lips around the tip, sucking, and then pulling away again, over and over until Light is digging his fingernails into the fabric of the chair and straining his eyes shut.

“Ryuzaki,” he moans, voice sounding more annoyed than he had wanted it to; he takes another few shaky breaths to try to even it. And then L’s lips are closing over him again and easing him into his throat, and for a minute, Light stops breathing.

“Kira,” L moans, suddenly, voice trembling, and _jesusfuckingchrist_ and Light is bucking up into his mouth, fucking his mouth hard, (images flashing behind his eyes of L admitting defeat, eyes limp and filled with so much submission, animosity), _that bastard, that fucking bastard_. 

“Nice one, Ryuzaki,” Light says, “but I’m not –” L’s tongue rolls over his cock, and then he finally lets Light’s cock all the way into his mouth, dragging his teeth very slightly up the shaft; Light gasps sharply, head falling back against the desk before he can stop himself, “I’m not Kira.”

L’s mouth is wet and warm and overwhelming, deafening all other thoughts in his brain and making Light’s vision explode into whiteness; Light is grateful that L cannot speak, because if he could, Light might incriminate himself– (and maybe, this would happen to L, too; maybe, Light can catch him at the moment of orgasm, and– the moment of death, all still and white and lifeless–)

He takes a shaky breath and watches the world fade back into focus in front of him, leaning back against the chair shamelessly. L is still crouched on the floor, lips swollen, staring up at him.

Staring.

“100%,” he says.


End file.
